Wet gray horse comes
driving down the rain,
cool- -cleansing.
Thick mist swirls- -curls
through the woods
in its wake.
The unsettling
of seasons drifting
shakes my soul- –
somehow
it comforts me though.
Odd- -a storm soothing me
with its hoof beats pounding- –
resounding a drum roll
and mantra
so utterly free flowing.
Vibrations of sound
a profound statement
tattooed to my heart.- –
symbols crashing,
lightning flashing,
rain drops splashing
against the panes.
Waves- -carried by wind
in a gray horses mane.
I hesitate- -breathing
may change the horses gate.
I long to lasso it,
ride it bareback- –
break-neck wild and mean,
I mean I would love
to ride the wind
in a wet gray horse storm.

Copyright 2010, by Suzie Ashby.

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